


To Null and Void

by HeathNils



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Demon Summoning, Demon!Bickslow, High School!Freed, M/M, Mentioned Miraxus, Mysterious Books, Slightly altered ages
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2020-01-24 12:01:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18571051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeathNils/pseuds/HeathNils
Summary: "Something horrible always seem to happen to a friend of a friend."-WatchMojoFreed Justine was just your average high school student-- He was a straight A student, he worked hard at his father's bookshop and faced many problems typical of a normal teenager so when Freed finds a mysterious book, he accidentally summons a demon named Bickslow. As he hides the trickster demon and tries to find a loophole in his 'forced' contract, he discovers he may have bitten off more then what he 'agreed' to.





	1. How it was

**Author's Note:**

> All Fairy Tail characters belong to Mashida  
> Fire Emblem belongs to Nintendo
> 
> All Original characters are mine.

Freed Justine was just a normal, healthy 16* year old boy.

It was as simple as that.

He was a straight A honor student attending the rather _'lively'_ Fairy Tail Academy with a perfect attendance, always completed his classwork and homework on time and was an automatic shoo-in for the most prestige university in all of Fiore; Crocus University. He was the president of the Student Body Council, the captain of school's fencing club, held all of the men's track run records, was the vice president of the book club, first chair in the violin section in the music department, team captain in the country side Academic Trivia group, lead library helper and top teacher's aid in the literature department. He worked part-time at his family's bookstore, had three of the greatest friends he could ever ask for in Laxus Dreyar, Mirajane Strauss and Evergreen Courtenay** and despite living in a single-parent household, he had the most wonderful and very supportive father in the world.

He was handsome young man, or beautiful, depending on who one would ask and stood at about the average height for a teenage boy his age with a slim, lean figure; a swimmer's body. His waist-length green hair might be considered odd, given both the color and how he wore it; his bangs were brushed to the side, covering the majority of the right side of his face with a pair of thin lightning bolt shaped strands that stood out from the sides of his head. His natural hair color that he occasionally tended to either let hang down or tied back into a ponytail with a grey ribbon, his eyes were a beautiful crystal blue surrounded by prominent eyelashes; beneath the left one of which had a small beauty mark.

He was the picture of the perfect model student in every sense.

But he wasn't without the problems that came with being a teenager.

Freed, while he may be more focused and worried about his studies as he studied to becoming an inspiring writer or novelist, he wasn't as ignorant to his looks as many people thought he was. His appearance attracted him quite a number of women and teenage girls who couldn't help but swoon, sigh, bat their eyelashes, called him _'cute'_ , the proper _'gentlemen'_ , so _'handsome'_ , _'cool'_ , _'smart'_ and almost asked him daily if he would be their _'boyfriend'_ ; while it was something he could handle fine on his own it also caused him a great deal of grief. It led to him, on more then one occasion, to be confused for a young woman by many men and fellow teenage boys his age and while some did backtrack and apologize for their actions, others-- a small selection of others, had persisted with their _'promises'_ and _'interests'_ in him and tended to on some occasions either stalk him, ask him out every chance they got or made rather rude and inappropriate passes at him, his worst offender; a scruffy man named Bruce. Granted, he, and the rest of them were just a vocal minority and were easy to deal with if Laxus flanked him but it still didn't make it any less annoying.

He also had his fair share of bullies, as per any youth would growing up.

There were those who targeted him simply for either his looks, his academic prowess, his perfectionism, his _'goody two-shoes'_ personality, their own insecurities, their jealously or because they thought he simply looked like he was just an easy target. His worst offender was a large man, a boy really, that was a couple years older then him named Sean and it seemed that this man spent his entire time calling the greenette names and threaten to beat him almost on a daily basis rather then learning how not to get held back every year. Of course, he never fell through with his threats of violence and it was possible-- though he likely would deny it-- he feared what Freed's best friend, Laxus Dreyar-- A bully in his own right-- would do if got wind of his transgressions toward Freed. So Freed just ignored him and went about his business.

But like any other human being, Freed had his flaws.

His major one; His need for order.

No one seemed to notice or even cared that he lived his entire life by means of rules that both he and his father had set for himself throughout the entirety of the greenette's life. Freed was a rather strict stickler when it came to rules of any kind; he enjoyed having control over what went around him, every choice, every decision and every action he made, making sure everything was going the way he wanted them to go and went by his carefully planned design. Nothing happened outside Freed's control and without his knowledge or his consent allowing both him and people around him to see his boundaries and his lines. No one knew what would happen if Freed didn't have his rules, it rarely happened and if it did, the only one who would witnessed it happening at all would have been Laxus, since the guy practically lived at Freed's house, but he refused to disclose so all anyone could do was guess.

Freed was perhaps the most collected human being in their sleepy little town of Magnolia; in the entirety of the world in fact. Freed was distant, preferring to be both emotionally and physically detached from the goings on of the world around him so as he could focus on his task at hand, making it seem that Freed was emotionless. In spite of this strange faces of emotion, Freed had a soft spot and cared for the others around him and can be quite emotional at times and while he was loyal to his father, he was also very loyal to best friend Laxus, he was also kind, optimistic and equally attached to his friends, classmates and teachers. Despite all this, Freed seemed to be a rather private person, his nose always stuck in a book.

So it was often theorized or speculated that due to Freed's numerous positions and his rather strict and detached personality, he would be at a complete loss or was just outright afraid of any and all changes, thus needing his rules. Others said it was because he was punished harshly at an tender age and if he was to ever step out of line or not follow a set of rules resulting him getting beaten and likely made him severely anxious and a might bit _'traumatized'_ when approached by something foreign and unknown. Freed neither confirmed nor denied their guesses as such talks and speculations of his personal life was well-beneath him.

But Freed's perfect life was about to be turned upside-down when one day, he was given to him by his father a book of rather unusual origins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *= For the purpose of this story all character ages have been altered for the sake of the story.
> 
> **=Since Evergreen doesn't have a last name, I made her one. Pretty lazy right?


	2. Freed Justine

"Now if we were to subtract 6 from 23x--"

 _''And you are left with 4xy.''_ He muttered breathlessly under his breath.

Freed was currently in his afternoon math class, his last class of the day, jotted down the steps to the problem into his notebook for future reference, his pencil flying across the paper at rapid speed while he multi-tasked his attention on his teacher and his notes. The only sounds that could be heard in the classroom was the teacher's voice, the scratching of pencils on paper and the occasional squeak or groan of a chair or desk moving and the equally occasional cough or sneeze. His gaze snapped up to the teacher just as the teacher spoke once more, directed toward the classroom.

"Can anyone tell me what we do now to isolate the x?"

He looked around the still classroom, a vein in his forehead twitching as only the sound of coughing and clearing throats could be heard in the classroom. He just irritated him that all the kids seemed capable of was staring at him, like they were merely deers caught in a truck's high beam on a dark and deserted highway. Freed shared the same feelings as his teacher as he let out a huff of air, rolling his eyes as he shot his hand high into the air.

The teacher let out a sigh of relief as he held a hand out toward. "Ah yes-- Freed?"

"You divide 4y from both sides." Freed said, bringing his hand down. "And the answer becomes x over z squared times ab equals y. X is 2, y is 6 and z is 12."

"Correct. Thank you Freed." The teacher smiled which Freed shyly returned. He turned back to the whiteboard. "Now for our next problem--"

"Show off."

Freed sighed but decided to ignore the rather heat filled comment as he continued to write in and bubble a few more equations and notes down in his notebook. He knew the person who sat behind him; Sean Corveck, an older student with a stocky build, broad shoulders with unkempt dark brown hair, matching facial stubble and dark eyes that were set to give him a permanent appearance of hating anything and everyone around him. He had to be the worst of the worst of his high school tormentors, a _'super'_ * senior who held nothing but contempt for the education system, lacked any proper motivation or willingness to go very far for his goals and despised Freed for simply being 'better then him' but Freed never allowed the man to get to him. He was after all, just a vocal minority, who acted tough but only wanted to complain and waste everyone else's time.

He must always be focused at all times.

 

* * *

 

 

The school clocks had all chimed at 2:45, the sign of the end of the school day and the beginning of a _'well-deserved'_ weekend. Freed closed up his notebook and was about to slip it into his textbook just as his teacher spoke up and over the din of the packing classroom, many of them in discussion as to their plans for the weekend.

"Remember to complete the problems on chapters 13 and 14 and have them turned into me on Monday!"

A collective groan filled the classroom as they filed out of the classroom, Freed quickly opened up his textbook and notebook and quickly wrote down the little reminder before closing them up once more and placing them in his bag. He waited until the rest of his class had exited the room before leaving himself, giving the teacher a smile and a quick wave of departure.

"Bye Mr. Alistar."

"Bye Freed. Have a nice weekend."

"You too."

Freed nodded as he stepped outside the classroom and into the heavily flow of student traffic in the hallway, toward his locker. He felt like he was a human ping ball; he was constantly bumped into and pushed left to right, though thankfully people apologized as he made his way toward his lockers, _'greeting'_ his _'fan club'_ along the way. They comprised solely of his female class and schoolmates who _'idolize'_ him, _'admired'_ him, thought he was so _'cute'_ , _'good-looking'_ and _'handsome'_ and his smart brain was _'hot'_ and _'sexy'_.

"HI FREED~"

To them, Freed was just the perfect boyfriend material.

The must have item!

"Hi Freed." Started a blushing blonde with highlights. "Wanna go out with me? I know a really cute cafe--"

"No!" Cried another girl. "He should go out with me!"

"No! Me!"

"Me!"

Freed fidgeted slightly before he pushed past the bickering crowd of girls, making a beeline for his locker his anxieties already gnawing at him like hungry wolves in the dead of winter. He never did like big crowds nor did he like being the center of attention. The male student body was worse.

He didn't understand these people, both men and women alike and their strange fixation for him, their incessant need to shower him with unwanted gifts and why they were so desperate to ask him each minute of the day when they could to become their boyfriend. He had politely refused each and everyone of them of course but that didn't seem to hamper their efforts in pursuing him as it unfortunately made him more _'irresistible'_ , more _'desirable'_ to them. He had no interest in romance, none whatsoever and while the message sunk into his unintended and very misguided fan club.

Many others failed to read the memo.

He jolted and slowly looked to his shoulder where a rather heavy arm draped itself around. He trembled.

"So Freed," a voice, belonging to the one man he despised, drawled, "Ya' care to explain to me what the hell was that?"

"I don't know what you are talking about Sean," Gods, this boy annoyed the living daylights out of him, "I was just answering a question the teacher had asked."

"Oh you're funny!"

Freed choked before coughing violently when he was shoved hard against the lockers, his papers, his bag and books scattering on the floor as an arm pressed itself tightly against his throat, slowly cutting off his air supply.

"You piss me off." Sean glared. "Acting like a know-it-all... People like you should be given a pop in the mouth--"

"Yes because I was just so lucky to be born with a brain," Freed wheezed, "You could've answered the problem if you truly knew it. I wasn't stopping you"

"You sayin' this my fault?!"

"Oh but obviously." Freed rolled his eyes. "How else could this be explained?"

"Oh you--" Sean was seething. "You realize there ain't no teachers around right?"

"Duh." Freed sneered. "Thank you Captain Obvious."

"That screws it!" Sean roared, pulling his fist back. "You've been asking for this a long time!"

"HEY!"

Both men jumped and quickly turned to the source, one turned sickly pale while the other shook his head with a sigh of relief. A very tall and muscular young man was walking toward them, his orange eyes narrowed and glaring at Sean, his unruly blond hair slicked back with numerous spiky strands pointing backwards, though some fell down into a small tuft on his forehead. He had a distinct lightning bolt-shaped scar on his right eye, his eyes had dark circles, with each of them possessing a single, prominent eyelash jutting outwards giving him a look of permanent anger or annoyance. He had a large black tribal-like tattoo located on his left rib cage extending up to his left shoulder and covers part of the corresponding upper back. His name was Laxus Dreyar, another _'super'_ senior, Freed's best and closest friend since elementary school and possibly Sean's worst nightmare.

Sean quickly dropped his hold of Freed and his act, making Freed smirk. "He-Hey La-Laxus. H-How's it hangin' man?"

"What the hell is going on here?" Came that low voice, the first warning.

"Oh n-nothing." Sean said quickly, helping Freed stand a little straighter and dusting off. "Nothing at all! We-we were just talking about this w-weekend's homework."

"Bullshit." Came that voice but a pitch lower as he took a step closer. The second warning. "I'll ask again-- What. Are. You. Doing?"

Sean didn't answer rather, he let out a sound akin to a squeal and he frantically ran down the hallway, away from the two of them while tripping and stumbling over himself in the process. Freed let a soft laugh at his rather poor act of a typical bully and being tough before he was caught by the one person no one dared to cross and frantically attempted to escape. It was amusing.

"Wondered why you were taking longer then you should," Laxus grunted, staring at Sean's retreating back. "You okay?"

"Yes. Thank you. I apologize if I worried you," Freed smiled while he gathered his spilled books, "I promise it wasn't my intention."

"Yeah, I know." Laxus smiled, bending down and helping Freed gather his dropped papers. "It wasn't just me you worried though--"

"Oh?"

"Laxus!" Came another familiar voice. "Did you find him? Is he okay?"

Both men looked up at the other end of the hallway to see a young woman running toward them. She was slim, shorter then the two men with long, snow-white hair that curled lightly at the end, two bangs framed her face and reaching down to her chest and a short, upward ponytail obtained by gathering and tying the hair covering her forehead. She had large, doe-like bright blue eyes and she had a curvy, voluptuous body with large breasts that was highlighted just perfectly in her school uniform. Her name was Mirajane Strauss, she was Laxus' girlfriend, well-known in the school as one of the most popular girls in the Sophomore year and was known for both her beauty and sweet personality; She was another close friend of Freed's since elementary school.

"Yeah." Laxus answered back. "He's fine."

"I'm sorry Mira," Freed smiled, "I may have gotten a bit distracted."

"What happened?" Mirajane asked, voice dropping low; To anyone who truly knew her, it was not a good sigh. "Why is your stuff all over the floor Free-Free?"

Freed blushed at the childhood nickname and was about to respond when Laxus beat him to the punch and answered for him.

"He ran into Sean," Laxus said, "But the minute he saw me, he turned tail and fled."

"I see," Mirajane sighed before taking a deep breath, her sweet smile back on her face and she too dropped down helping Freed and Laxus gather the last of his things, "Thank goodness you were there Laxus-- But why must that jerk and those other bullies pick on you Free-Free?"

"I couldn't tell you. I guess I just look like an easy target to him and all of the other bullies," Freed chuckled, standing up, "He was already angry from earlier today, long before our shared math class, so he--"

"So he thought he could take it out on you." Laxus finished while Freed shrugged. "Lucky I was here."

"Will Ever and your brother be joining us?"

"No." Mirajane giggled. "Tonight's _'Date Night'_."

"Ah."

The three of the made their way to Freed's locker and waited for the greenette to put away and to gather certain needed materials. They walked away from the lockers and making their way to the school gates, talking about a variety of things ranging from their weekend plans to video games, books, what certain members of their family was likely up to and the world around them. They passed their fellow classmates and friends, saying goodbye and heading off by the time they reached the street where Freed lived, it was decided that they would spend the weekend studying. They reached a bookstore at the end of the block, where Freed and his father Stefan both lived and worked and Freed felt relieved that he didn't have that _'usual'_ encounter with _**HIM**_ , another reason why he liked walking home with both Laxus and Mira.

He shuddered briefly.

"Bye Freed."

"See ya' tomorrow."

"Bye."

Freed waved as they retreated further down the street, away from his house before turning and pushed open the door that led to the family bookstore. It was a rather moderate-sized building, with the family-owned business where people could buy, sell and trade books on the first floor and their 2 bedroom, 1 bath apartment on the second floor. Freed couldn't resist giving off a big but goofy smile upon the smell of books and hearing the usual sound of the bell dinging to announce his arrival and right on cue, his father comes from around the corner to greet him.

"Freed! Welcome home kiddo!"

Freed grunted as he was swept up into a large bear-like hug by an older man; his father, Stefan**. He stood about a foot taller then Freed, with shaggy dark green hair that only reached his shoulders, brushed more to the right, sometimes covering the right side of his head-- similar to his son-- and he had dark blue eyes. Many often confused the two men to be brothers rather then father and son as they looked vaguely similar and if he was honest, Freed liked being told he looked more like his father and often hated being told he had anything of his mother in him.

He hated that woman.

"Soooooooo-- How was school?" Stefan asked as they pulled apart.

"Nothing new to report," Freed smiled as they began walking toward the stairs that lead to their living space, "Same old, same old."

"How are Laxus and Mirajane?"

"Both are good."

"Still together?"

"Yep." Freed smiled. "Anything interesting happen while was at school?"

"Nope." Stefan replied before pausing, "Oh wait. I lied."

"Hmm?"

Freed blinked, confused, as Stefan retreated back down the stairs into the bookshop. He waited, at the top of the stairs, as the sounds of papers and books were being moved and shuffled and soon enough his father had returned, climbing up the stairs toward him, an item in his hand and he held it out to Freed, who took it and examined it carefully. It was a book, written in strange wording, it looked familiar but at the same time none of it looked familiar, it was small, looking more like a journal or a diary, a young child would have and looked worn and weathered; perhaps old.

"A middle-aged man came into the store today with that." Stefan explained. "Wanted to sell a few rather dusty books-- As was I appraising them I discovered that one of them looked rather old and was written a foreign language-- Something I think you were studying-- So I offered $50 for the stack but $300 for this one."

"$300?" Freed jolted, looking at his father in disbelief. "For an old book in a foreign language?"

"Not just any language," Stefan smiled as he ushered his son into the living space, "I did some research after he left and I found out it was written in what apparently the historic community calls a _'dead language'_."

"A dead language," Freed breathed as both men sat down at the table, looking back at the small book, eyes wide. Was this real? "R-Really? Which one?"

"I think they called it _'Middle English'_."

"Really?"

Freed could not believe what it was he was hearing-- It was like a dream come true to the greenette. Middle English was a form of the early English language that was largely written and spoken between 1150 until the late 1500's, roughly following after the Late Middle Ages, undergoing distinct variations and developments following the Old English period. Very few samples of the writing pre-dating the 1500's showed extensive regional variation, improvised with the passage of time until about roughly 1650 as many Old English grammatical features either became simplified or disappeared altogether. To find a manuscript of any kind in any known dead language, it surely had to be worth perhaps close to a few hundred thousand dollars and if his father got it for a mere $300--

Either this man was ignorant to its true value or they really lucked out.

"Did the man say anything about it?" Freed asked, as he carefully open the book to a random page, finding it filled with not just the writing but drawings and unusal symbols. "Like where it came from or how long he's had it in his possession?"

"Nothing that caught my attention," Stefan admitted, "He just told me he found it in grandfather's attic while he was cleaning it out after his passing."

"I see."

"I take it you like?"

"Like it?" Freed stood up and pulled his father into a tight hug, "I love it!"

"I'm glad." Stefan beamed as he returned the hug. "I take it I'm gonna see you still awake, reading this book by the time I wake up and reopen the store at 6 in the morning, right?"

"Oh yeah." Freed said absentmindedly, already working on the first page. "Most invigorating--"

Stefan just laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *= While the 'Super Senior' chant is used in school rallies as a form of school year morale, it is also a term used to describe a student who didn't graduate with their Senior class and repeated their Senior class.
> 
> **= Type in 'Stefan Fire Emblem' and you could literally see the resemblance.


	3. That Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a Wiccan and Pagan and I came from a family of Catholic and Christian backgrounds, I even have friends with those backgrounds so I hand a lot of help from them and Google with some of the work on this chapter which is why this chapter took so long. 
> 
> I have this head cannon that while Freed might have a faith, he was more of a realist and that there's always an explanation for everything.

It was close to 5 in the morning and Freed was still awake, deciphering and rewriting the text in the book that his father had given him.

He couldn't stop. 

Freed sat on his bed, wrapped up in his favorite blankets, his back propped against his headboard cushioned by a few large pillows with large stacks of books surrounding his form, the largest one of them propped open on his lap to help him translate the language and jotted down a few notes and letters in a large spiral notebook he bought at the nearby gas station during his break to the right of him. The only thing that could be heard in the room was the scratching of a pencil against the surface of a notebook, the rustling of pages being flipped and breathless muttering.

"Demonic entities in the Old Testament of the Christian Bible were said to be one of two classes: the _'satyrs'_ or _'shaggy goats'_ and the _'demons'_."

Freed had never once put the book down, nor did he stop translating chapter after chapter, word after word while he still found time to finish his homework for the weekend and completed his shift, closing the family book store at 9 pm. Freed came to discover that the small and rather thick book his father had bought from a customer was a lot older then it first appeared.

A lot older. 

From what he gathered from the variations of the written syllables, grammatical variations of both Latin and Middle English, the numerous Celtic, Pagan and Roman symbols, drawings and the seal on the back of the book, he traced the book's origin to having been first written in Europe, back when the Holy Roman Empire was still in power almost 700 years ago. It was first handwritten in the city of Vienna before it became the capital of today's Austria, the birth city of music, sometime between 1347 and 1351, during the worst time in human history.* It was the only confirmed printed copy in the world, printed in London, England sometime during 1515 when the printing press was common place during the time period but was still unknown as to who first wrote it or who printed it and for what intent and purposes as it disappeared right after it was printed. It was have to been said it had appeared a handful of times since then, changing from hand to hand, bouncing from country to country but none were confirmed indefinitely.

How did this man or rather, this man's grandfather, ever find and such a rare and illusive piece of history and literature?

He read more into the text and from what he had translated, it appeared to be a manual or a study guide of sorts, perhaps the earliest transcript of demonolgy, a study of demons and the beliefs about demons and the world of the supernatural. 

"Often the deities of other religions and worlds were interpreted or identified as _'demons'_. The Christian Devil and the pentagram were seen as examples of rituals that showcase evil qualities by the Christian churches."

Demons, from what Freed had read during his leisure time, in the Christian faith were seen as corrupted spirits carrying the execution of Satan's desires, souls of the wicked deceased, who roam the earth to torment the living, nephilim or fallen angels, who sided with Lucifer. In other religions and societies, Freed included, believed that they were regarded as spirits or familiars, that may be human or non human in appearance but they were separable souls, or discarnate spirits which have never inhabited a body. 

"The Roman Catholic Church unequivocally teaches us that angels and demons are real beings rather than just symbolic devices." Freed muttered, writing more notes into his notebook. "The Catholic Church had a cadre of officially sanctioned exorcists which perform many exorcisms each year."

Many of the pages and texts that Freed read were devoted to various types of demons followed by numerous sub-species from every religion to every part of the world; Christianity to Judaism, Islam to Buddhism, Norse to Celtic, Pagan to Greek from Native American cultures to the Mayan civilization. Each page had a rather detailed description of each demon, creature or spirit with their strengths, powers, key features and weaknesses, followed by a rather impressive and equally detailed drawing of them giving Freed the impression that this must have been an early manuscript of one's prior assumption of how one could find, track and banish demons and evil spirits.

After he read each piece it was starting to dawn on him, half way through his reading of the book, he began to wonder if he had stumbled upon a manuscript on demon summoning. What he read next seemed to support his theory.

"While some people, myself at one time, feared demons, or attempt to exorcise them, others, myself included, willfully attempt to summon them for knowledge, assistance, or power."

Freed blinked. Freed wasn't exactly what people would call a _'believer'_ of the supernatural variety nor would he consider himself a man of any religious faith nor was he an atheist or _'non-believer'_. He was more of man who wanted scientific proof, evidence of events or of people actually happening: Angels, Demons, Heaven, Hell, the Devil, God-- To Freed, they didn't exist, never had. Freed believed that there was a scientific explanation for all of the supposed _'acts of God'_ and while there was proof some of the historical figures in the bible had existed, Freed also believed there was an explanation for that as well as they may very well have been the first recorded in human history to suffer from a mental illness and delusions, merely stories and fairy tales for attention.

Freed believed in science, not all this hocus pocus _'never question God's work, God is real'_ the church and fanatical supporters was always trying to cram down people's throats.

But alas, it was the way of the world and while the religious faith was slowly becoming more tolerable of the _'choices'_ of the _'non-believers'_ like him, Freed, in the same breath, couldn't help but find it rather fascinating learning how people who lived during the medieval times believed in such whimsical things during hard and troubling moments in their lives. Freed continued to read the passages of the Evocation, the supposed act of calling upon or summoning a spirit, demon, deity or other supernatural agent, finding it rather fascinating that whomever first wrote this book seemed to treat this as a _'How To'_ and that these _'unholy beasts'_ , while still dangerous, they were something to observe and study, to live alongside and learn from rather then something that should be feared, to be avoided and killed on site. And given on what Freed had read and studied about Medieval Europe, the people were a rather superstitious lot, highly paranoid and quite strict with their teachings and upbringings. 

"While the seven deadly sins, human-like in appearance, did not originate with the Greeks or Romans, there were ancient precedents for them--"

He paused, blinking. 

He quickly looked back to the large textbook that he had propped open for translating, he checked the notes he had wrote down and then checked the his translation before he looked back at the book in his hand. 

Sins?

Sins were actually demons?

Freed was familiar with the capital vices, or the seven deadly sins as they were called in the Christian teachings. He, like many others of either faith or no faith at all, believed they were merely human behaviors or habits that were classified under this category if they directly give birth to other immoralities within the human mindset, regardless of the Bible's lack of confirmation. He flipped through the pages of his textbook while looking back at the book ever now and then, making sure he was translating the text right, that he didn't confuse one pronunciation for another.

He wasn't.

His curiosity now piqued, Freed continued to read further into the passages; Finding this take on the seven sins rather fascinating. The sins, with the sole exception of sloth, were defined as perverse or corrupt versions of love: lust, gluttony, and greed, all were excessive or disordered love of good things; sloth is a deficiency of love; wrath, envy, and pride are perverted love directed toward another's harm. Each of the sins were generally all associated back with pride, which has been labeled as the father, the king of all sins which Freed found fascinating.

 _'Huh... I thought Wrath was the king of all sins.'_ Freed blinked as he read the passage for Wrath. He shrugged. _'Guess not.'_

He flipped through the pages, reading as he did so and was admittedly quite impressed with the author's drawn perception of what the sins would have looked like in physical form, quite detailed, but when he came to the pages for _'Lust'_ and _'Greed'_ he was confused at the lack of a drawing for them. He flipped through the other pages, finding there had been concept drawings for all the other demons that had been listed, including the other five sins whom all looked quite humanoid in appearance. He frowned and flipped back to Lust, then jumped over Gluttony right to Greed. So why--

_'Why had they not drawn these two?'_

It wasn't as if this person wasn't very imaginative, far from it by the looks of it, but Freed was finding it rather odd that these two were perhaps the only ones with no concept drawings or even mere chicken scratches of a doodle or sketch. All he could find were vague descriptions of them;

_**Lust was a demon born from man's intense wanting or longing for an object, first given its form by man's uncontrolled desires; be it for love, money or power. Matthew 13:17: For verily I say unto you, that many prophets and righteous men desired to see the things which ye see, and saw them not; and to hear the things which ye hear, and heard them not.** _

_**He, Luxuria, he was later called--** _

Freed frowned.

 _'He?'_ He quickly reached out for a book among the piles he had surrounding him. _'Don't they mean 'She'?'_

Freed found the book he wanted and quickly flipped through the pages till he sought out what he sought. While Lust, Luxuria, wasn't given a personification form in many of the other religions as it was merely viewed as a corrupted version of a pure emotion, it was heavily hinted in the Catholic church that was seen, in the Romanesque art especially, generally as feminine representing of a form similar to that of a siren or that of a young woman in the nude with breasts being bitten by snakes. Freed frowned as he picked up the small book once more, still baffled as he read the physical description.

_'He?'_

**_A slim, yet physically fit creature with silver horns and white scales adorning his body and white claws that could make quick work of man's flesh. At first glance, he resembled that of a young man no older then if he had first stepped into the cusp of man-hood._ **

**_His voice was of a sweet songbird, kind and warm. His hair, wild and untamed, was softer then anything man could make, was made from God's gifted light; The Sun, so as to draw his prey with his 'sweet promises' and honeyed words. His eyes were of the purest of waters that while gentle and beautiful, they were that of a snake's; sharp and deceitful.**_**

**_He is recognized by the creed on his left breast; a blue snake._ **

Freed blinked. So the Catholic Church was right in a way-- There was a snake in there, just not the way they imagined. He jumped past Gluttony, straight to Greed, reading his description.

**_Avarice or Greed was a rather massive beast._ **

**_He resembled a heavily muscular human man found only in the deep and far north, possessing an extremely well-built torso, and matching arms that housed in human strength that many of the king's knights longed to have._ **

**_Would kill for._ **

**_His wild and outgrown green hair reminded thee of man's uncontrolled and bottomless vice. His eyes are pale, milky white but nothing could slip past them, he could see all; lies, deceit or deception. He happily feasted on them all. His massive shoulders and arms are adorned by large dark tattoos, with each arm bearing a circle flanked by a pair of slender objects of wings and elongated leaves while in black ink the frog on his back shoulder in yellow paint can not be ignored.**_ ***

Freed shuddered with a small smile.

_'And here I thought Gluttony sounded bad.'_

Freed flipped back to Gluttony and began reading. The Sins had always sounded fascinating to the greenette and this book, while it was a product of someone's thoughts and beliefs was a fountain of information that Freed was lucky to have gained custody. He continued to read on until he reached Pride and as he read about the vice he felt... Uneasy.

_**Superbia, Pride, was the oldest of the Sins, their leader and is regarded as the King of all Demons.** _

_**A tall man-beast, he towered over thee truly like the Devil himself. The top half was human in appearance, mildly muscular with broad shoulders. His hair was blue and black in color, his eyes glowed red like dying embers in a fire pit--** _

**SMACK**

Freed jumped out of his skin, the blankets falling off his body as he nearly dropping the book in his hands as he looked toward his bedroom window, eyes wild and breathing harshly. He let out a heavy sigh of relief as he realized that it was only the shutters outside his window that had made the sound he had heard as he watched them swinging back and forth in the sudden wind storm that seemed to have brewed out of nowhere. He gulped and went back to reading.

_'You're just over-imagining.'_

_**A large violet lion covers the whole of his back while on the upper part of the nose and forehead he bore the symbol of a man extending his long, curved arms outwards. A symbol of punishment for those caught committing this sin being broken on the wheel--** _

Freed shuddered.

Out of all of the medieval tortures and executions, the Catherine Wheel wasn't Freed's favorite; It had to be the most painful way to die. He flinched when he felt his bladder quiver and he decided to step out of his bed, never once placing the book down, still reading as he made his way toward the bathroom. He placed the book down, still open on _'Pride'_ atop the counter top, quickly took care of his business and quickly, while thoroughly washed his hands before he returned to his reading, leaning over the counter top not yet leaving the bathroom, flipping to the next page.

He blinked and furrowed his brows.

On the next page, Freed found what looked to be a poem, a poem dedicated to Pride but it seemed to be written in Ancient Latin but the more he stared at the text, deciphering and translating it he realized that it was actually the supposed summoning rite. It was then, Freed realized as he flipped through back through the pages, he discovered there was one for every demon and spirit he had read thus far.

Except Lust and Greed.

But it didn't stop Freed, as he continued to read, finally stepping outside the bathroom as he read the passage.

"Here and now I reach out to you, possessor of all vanity," Freed muttered, "For I invoke you."

**BOOM**

Freed jumped, tripping and stumbling backwards into the wall behind him, barely keeping a good hold on both the wall and the book in his hand. He looked to the window just as a flash of bright light broke across the dark sky, the wind seemed to grow more violent and an ominous rumbling could be heard in the distance. He gulped, staring out the window as rain suddenly pelted against the side of their house before returning to his reading.

That was normal.

"I call on that which flickers within all that dances and stumbles, in the darkness be it in futility and the hubris," Freed continued once he calmed his heart, returning to his translating, "In this world where I call on that which rises from beautifully realized intention, I call on art and ingenuity, dignity and holiness, Will and Myth, Experience and Story. Pride, I call to thee."

Freed gasped as another flash of light cut across his line of vision, this time from the book. Freed hissed in pain, dropping the book and yanking his hands to his chest when he felt them getting burned. How and why were beyond the greenette but once the pain and light disappeared, Freed blinked his eyes a couple of times to clear his vision, looking around before he quickly dropped to his knees and quickly reached for the book, hoping that the drop hadn't damaged it. Upon inspection, he discovered that thankfully, it wasn't damaged though he did study the outside of the book a little more carefully.

Just what was that?

The book had somehow burnt him and produced a brief blinding light. How, Freed could not figure out as while he was well aware of the chemical components that made the book's paper, none of it he knew, could produce the results that had happened. He opened it back up, flipping through the pages until he came to where he was last left; Pride when he suddenly paused, blinking, confusion evident. He quickly closed the book then opened it back up but nothing changed.

Pride's sketch and his _'summoning'_ rite was gone.

Freed could feel his anxieties increase, compressing against his stomach and chest as he flipped between the pages of Wrath and Pride, but nothing changed: It was still gone. It was there, Freed knew it was there, he saw it! Something wasn't adding up. Freed set the book down on the floor and with a deep breath, he quickly rubbed both palms across his eyes, maybe he was just seeing things it was after all very well past 5 in the morning at this point and perhaps his brain was playing tricks on him.

That had to be it!

**CLATTER**

Freed jolted, head snapping in the direction the sound had come from, it sounded like it had come from down below, from inside the bookstore. He thought, at first, it was all in his exhausted mind, but when another sound of something being knocked down from the bookshelf entered the air followed by a soft hissing curse, Freed was at high alert.

There was an intruder.

Quickly and quietly, Freed got back up to his feet, book forgotten and crept toward the staircase, peering down into the dark landing. He waited, heart racing and breathing strained, he barely kept his horrified gasp in check when another sound of something being dropped entered the air followed by another curse and the sounds of something or someone moving around downstairs. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around a nearby umbrella that was propped against the wall before the stairway. It was just him, he didn't have his cellphone, his father was asleep several doors away so he was on his own.

He had to protect his home and their family business!

He slowly crept down the stairs, toward the dark bookshop, his breath held as he reached the landing just as soft muttering could be heard from within the Reading Corner. Freed pressed his back against the wall, just as the muttering became a chuckle.

"Ibi es."

Freed furrowed his brows, he knew what the words translated to but his brain couldn't seem to focus on them as he was more focused on what he knew; There was one intruder, male, clumsy and he probably didn't speak an ounce of English, if their use of Latin meant anything but before Freed could decide his next course of action, a voice cut across his thoughts and drew his attention to his right. His eyes grew wide.

"Well~ Aren't you the prettiest summoner I ever did see~"

Freed let out a soundless cry, trying to back away only to trip and stumble, falling onto his bottom, more onto his side. 

_'What in--'_

Right before him stood a rather tall and mildly muscular man with broad shoulders but he was no man Freed had ever seen before. The upper half was human but the lower half looked like that of a reptile's, dark and almost like heavy armor, like a dragon's from D&D manuals with large, thick, dark horns, similar to an impala's, protruded from the sides of his head with elvian ears. His arms were covered in the same dark, scale-like armor, almost like animal claws with knife-like talons and a scaly salamander-like tail twitching behind him. His hair, from what Freed could see in the brief lighting the lightening offered was blue and black in color, the black hair was almost shaven around his horns while the blue hair, occupying the top of his head was much longer, styled in a mohawk-like crest. On the upper part of his face, over his nose and his forehead was the tattoo of a man extending his long, curved arms outwards. His eyes glowed red like a pair of dying embers that had prominent eyelashes ending in a spiraling curved motif, each placed at one of his large eyes’ sides; two pointing towards his nose are headed downwards, while the other two jut upwards. 

Freed could feel his heart hammering against his chest.

This almost looked like Pride. He matched the physical appearance matched the book's description of the demon but that was impossible! Demons didn't exist! This wasn't real, this was all just in his imagination, a nightmare even. 

He jolted he saw that _'clawed'_ hand reach out for him, he let out a startled cry and attempted to crawl away only for his hand to find a nearby table runner and pulling on it. A lamp that was stationed on top fell and collided with Freed's left temple and he let out a pained cry and he clutched his head, vision swimming. He watched as those _'clawed'_ hands move closer and closer toward him, his pain clouding his head and before he could anything darkness suddenly enveloped his vision.

And he knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * = The Black Death
> 
> **, *** = Take a wild guess as to who these two are. X3

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews much appreciated.


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